Harry Potter and the Cliché Stew
by alienyouthct
Summary: Harry Potter dies. And then finds out he wasn't supposed to die. And gets sent back. And gets rich. And marries a bunch of women. Who don't fit in at all. Sound familiar? It should.
1. Not So Dearly Departed

Title: _Harry Potter and the Cliché Stew  
_Author: JoeHundredaire  
Rating: R/FR18/T  
Disclaimer: I was planning to do more than a blanket 'not it!' for this story, but not only would that give away some plot twists but… well, some of the rights in question are complicated to untangle and attribute. At any rate, J.K. Rowling owns the _Harry Potter_ universe, including everyone and everything that's a part of it. Anything else you recognize? Not mine, don't sue, et cetera and so forth.  
Summary: Harry Potter dies. And then finds out he wasn't supposed to die. And gets sent back. And gets rich. And marries a bunch of women. Who don't fit in at all. Sound familiar? It should.  
Joe's Note: This story will be very loosely based on… well, a whole lot of stories in the _Harry Potter_ fandom at present, as it was created specifically to mock some of the more overused clichés in what pops up on the 60,000+ word section of these days. So, to repeat in case you missed what I said in the last two lines, this is not a story meant to be taken seriously. I've got elements of at least four different eyeroll-worthy overused plots in here, mushed together into one - hopefully - hilarious mess:  
1.) An unusual individual or group gets dropped into Hogwarts/the wizarding world and has to integrate. Some manage it, although that's the minority of stories. Others aren't so good at blending in.  
2.) Harry dies, meets 'Death', and gets sent back to unfuck his life as well as deliver a story with heaping spoonfuls of H/Hr - mostly owing to the fact that the majority of these stories stem from the same H/Hr-shipping challenge - along with Weasley bashing and either a worthless or bashed Dumbledore as well.  
3.) Harry goes to Gringotts after Sirius dies and finds out - among other things - that he has to marry several women for some reason: he's the heir to multiple family lines that all want to be individuated by him taking wives and having heirs for them, Sirius was in that situation and it's since been passed to Harry, he's the Heir to the Founders, some combination of the above or even all three. Generally, since this involves lots of special inheriting and all, it goes hand in hand with…  
4.) Harry goes to Gringotts after Sirius dies and finds out that he's not only inherited some money, property, and/or titles from Sirius, but that he's ludicrously rich in his own right because the Potters have vast wealth he was never told about by anyone.  
Well, there will be no Harry/Hermione, minimal Weasley bashing, and Dumbledore is only bashed because… well, Rowling insisted on turning him into the puppet master of her books; there's really no way to criticize anything that happened in any of them in-story without it being a bash of Dumbledore. And finally, I know my selection of crossovers is… eclectic. I'll do my best to introduce everyone so you don't need to pop open four or five wikis to enjoy the story.  
Dedications &amp; Thanks: To Alexander, Nick, Nathan, MJ, Jessica, Ken, Aaron, Daniel, Vi9, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange leapt to her feet, chest heaving as she panted and looked from Voldemort to Harry and back with a maniacal gleam in her eye… the only look she was capable of, Harry Potter was honestly beginning to believe. Save for her, the clearing was almost motionless; the only things that moved were the flames and Nagini, slowly slithering back and forth in the cage behind Voldemort's head as she eyed Harry.

Even as fast as he was and as adept at dodging spells as he'd become, Harry made no attempt to draw his wand and deal with Voldemort's living horcrux. The snake was too well defended even without being overtly protected; firing a spell at Nagini meant firing a spell at Voldemort, who would undoubtedly assume that he was the one under attack and counter with a shield. Harry, in turn, would be hit with the fifty or so spells sent by the Death Eaters in defense of their master. A lose-lose situation of the highest order.

And so instead Harry continued to hold Voldemort's gaze, until the older man tilted his head a little to the side and a singularly mirthless smile curled his lipless mouth. "Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived, as they say."

None of the Death Eaters moved; they clearly knew their master had something planned but it was just as clear that they had no idea what that plan was. Off to one side, Hagrid was struggling and then Harry's eyes landed on Bellatrix, and for some reason he couldn't help thinking of Ginny and the blazing look in her eyes when she felt passionate about something and the feel of her lips on his…

Slowly, Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, his head still tilted to one side like a curious child, perhaps wondering what would happen if he proceeded. It was a valid question in Harry's mind; Voldemort had tried it once at Godric's Hollow and had his body destroyed, tried it again in the graveyard and been affected by _Priori Incantatem_… would a third try with his new wand kill Harry as Dumbledore claimed was necessary, or result in another failure in front of all the remaining Death Eaters? Whatever was going to happen, Harry decided as he met those inhuman red eyes again, he wanted it to happen now, quickly, while he could still stand proudly, before he lost control, before he betrayed fear…

Voldemort's mouth moved and there was a flash of green light and then everything was gone…

* * *

"…so let me get this straight. I've died over thirty times so far since entering the wizarding world, some of those times supposedly more hilarious than others. Not really seeing how me dying could ever be considered funny, but maybe that's because it's me. At any rate, every time I die, I end up here talking to you and you send me back to try things again with a subconscious suggestion implanted so I don't die the same way again. Last time you even sent me back with all of my memories and some extra magical knowledge so I could finally beat Voldemort once and for all. Which should have done the trick, except Dumbledore used legilimency on me and then obliviated me because he was so sure that I had to die for Voldemort to be defeated that he didn't want me to even think there was an alternative. Thing is, he's completely wrong and so my sixth and seventh years have been a waste every time I make it that far. Oh, and to top it all off, my whole relationship with Ginny was a lie and she's been dosing me with a list of potions a mile long since the summer before my sixth year. Does that sound about right?"

So far, Harry's time in the Nexus - a stopover point for those between life and death because it was evidently a common enough thing that they needed a place for people like him - had been a mixture of boredom, irritation, disbelief, and depression. After being hit by the Killing Curse, he'd woken up in an all-white waiting room where a doppelgänger had helped him to his feet before proceeding to make a really stupid joke about being 'beside himself'. Following that little bout of bizarreness, Harry had whiled away the better part of half an hour watching the various occupants of the room, some of whom were human while others were most definitely not. The majority of the non-humans had been unfamiliar to him even after seven years in the wizarding world, making him wonder what they were and where they were from. In the human portion of the crowd, he'd found at least a dozen other copies of himself… which was actually more disturbing in his book than the random non-humans with blue skin or feathers or gills.

When he'd grown bored with that, he'd decided to take one of the few empty seats he could find, spending some time eyeing the gorgeous redhead he'd ended up sitting beside because… well, she was gorgeous. Then his Reaper had come to collect him from the waiting room and called the girl by name… and sweet Merlin, he still felt sick for being turned on by a girl version of himself. They'd spent a few minutes wandering through what had seemed like an endless, doorless white hallway before stopping in front of a random spot. A portal had opened to allow them to enter a rather spartan, very white office and he'd been sitting there ever since having all his preconceived notions about the last seven years of his life systematically destroyed.

His Reaper Michelle - she evidently had some sort of issue with the 'angel' in her official Angel of Death title because her 'work clothes' forced her to hide her wings - seemed to be having a disturbing amount of fun doing it, too. "That's the long and short of it. Although technically it was only Ginny's plan. She convinced Dobby that she was 'the great Harry Potter's future Missy Potter' and that if he helped her push things along and keep 'evil girlies' away, she'd make sure you hired him on to care for your family. She was even picking out names for the kids. So, if I were you? I'd talk to Dobby ASAP about what plans 'the great Harry Potter' actually has for his future. And obviously you should avoid any food or drink she tries to serve you at the Burrow if you visit. But ickle Gin-Gin messing with your head and heart - and a few other parts of you in dark corners - is the least of your problems." Reaching up, Michelle pulled off her glasses, the black plastic frames a stark contrast to her bubblegum pink hair and matching eyes. "But don't worry, I have the perfect plan to make sure that this is the last time we ever see each other. Well, technically it's not my plan; it's a contingency plan that He came up with and jotted down in the guidebook we all work from… but since I'm going to be the first Reaper to ever use it, I can probably get away with claiming it's mine."

"Not that I'm complaining about whatever help you want to give me, but…" Harry paused, wondering how to phrase things so he didn't unnecessarily offend the woman who held dominion over his life and death. Well, offend her or provoke another diatribe about how 'fucking retarded' he was for dying so many times in so many ways. He still couldn't believe he'd been killed by the basilisk while sneaking into Myrtle's bathroom to stir the polyjuice for Hermione, or that they'd all been crushed to death while attempting to escape Gringotts when the dragon managed to bring the entire bank down on top of them… "I mean, now that I know how far Dumbledore will go to keep me on the path he thinks I need to be on, you can just do the same thing as last time again and it'll turn out better, yeah?"

Michelle raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm not saying I don't trust you, Harry, but… actually, seeing as how we're not supposed to lie, I can't even finish that sentence. In the words of Albert Einstein? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. To be incredibly blunt, I don't think I can trust you to do the job anymore but since someone higher up the food chain decided to bind you and Voldemort together and you're the only way I can get that fucker down playing poker with Hitler where he belongs? I'm stuck working with you. Or in this case… stuck working through you. Or around you. Whatever."

Again biting his tongue to avoid provoking another batch of insults slung his way, Harry tried to figure out where she was going with all this? "So, if sending me back with memories and spells and such is out because I already blew my chance with that, what's the plan? Are you going to assign another angel to come with me and lead me along by the nose to make sure I do everything exactly right? Because if you are, please make them visible so I don't look like I'm a loony who constant talks to thin air. You can make people think they're a student who was always there, right?" Or… oh Merlin. What if Michelle was planning to come back with him personally? Hell, he'd hunt Voldemort down by the end of the summer just to get rid of her…

"Could? Yes. Will? No. Mostly because I'm sure as fuck not going to do it, and I'm not going to ask a fellow angel to do something that I'm not willing to do. That's just rude. No, while sometimes you actually got to find out about the true extent of what your parents or Sirius left you, there's more to your inheritance than just material wealth… and I'm going to take advantage of it to stack your deck, so to speak." Slipping her glasses back on, Michelle dug through the papers in the white folder in front of her for a moment before pulling out a family tree. Dragging two fingers along the paper, she zoomed it out to show generation after generation of his ancestors up both sides of his family tree. Once she reached whatever point she was looking for, Michelle began tapping on seemingly random boxes, causing each to glow a different color and begin tracing a path downwards towards where his box waited at the very bottom of the page. The longest-running and most prominent was a bright red line that ran along the left side of the tree, and Michelle ran her finger along it for a moment before launching into an explanation. "This is the line of headship for the Noble and Most Honorable House of Potter. With your grandfather an only child and dead, your father an only child and dead, and you an only child… you're obviously the heir. You also inherit the headship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black because…" Again she used her finger to emphasize a line on the tree, this one the purple line branching off his father's box to his paternal grandmother's, Michelle's actions causing the boxes to wriggle and rearrange to make room for a whole new branch of the family tree. "…you're related to the Blacks via Dorea Potter née Black. With me so far or do I need to go back and use smaller words?"

Bristling, Harry narrowed his eyes at her. Even if she was an angel and in charge of what happened to him in the afterlife - or yet another chance at life - he'd had just about enough of the abuse. Just because he'd made a few mistakes in his life and wasn't unnecessarily confrontational didn't mean he was going to let her walk all over him, damn it. "Maybe you should repeat yourself. I got the gist of it but I think I missed some of the details. I know I heard 'when you go back, make sure you look Dumbledore in the eyes again', though…"

Rather than growing angry at him, Michelle surprised Harry by letting out a rueful chuckle and running her hand through her hair. "Touché. I'm sorry. I'm just… do you have any idea how humiliating this whole thing is for me? The only Reaper who gets less respect is Cordelia, and that's because her star client is She-Who-Chokes-to-Death-Slobbering-On-Knobs." Harry blinked owlishly and she clarified. "The redhead you were checking out? Yeah, saw her file on the way in. This is her third straight death by erotic asphyxiation. Turns out having something shoved down your throat for long periods of time gets in the way of breathing properly. Who'da thunk it?"

"And you say I have embarrassing deaths. At least you're not her Reaper."

"Amen to that, Harry. Amen to that. Anyways, getting back to this family tree of yours… we've established that you're the heir to the Houses of Potter and Black through your father and Sirius respectively. But this is where it gets interesting. You're not just the heir to those two families. And you're not the heir to three families, or even four. You're the heir to five separate families. Which means that there are five separate headships to claim if you want." Abruptly sobering, Michelle's odd pink eyes bored into Harry's. "And after you hear this plan of mine… trust me, you're going to want it." Tapping her finger against the family tree, Michelle frowned as she studied it for a long second before shaking her head and looking back up at Harry. "Doubt we really need the visual aids, to be honest. Third and fourth families are similar situations: one family married their eldest daughter and heiress into the Potters, the other merged into the Blacks. So through your father, you're actually head of the Houses of Potter and Rashleigh: your paternal grandfather's mother was the Rashleigh heiress. In the case of the Blacks, the intermarriage is a bit further up the family tree but suffice to say that you're now the head of the House of Cavendish through Sirius along with being the head of the Blacks. The fifth family… the fifth family is where it gets sticky. Have you ever heard of the Peverells, Harry?"

Harry let out a little snort at that; even though he probably shouldn't have felt quite so arrogant given that he hadn't known of them until recently, now that he was part of the wizarding majority who did… "Of course. The three brothers who received the Deathly Hallows. Well, Dumbledore thought it was more likely that they made the Hallows, but either way… Antioch with the Elder Wand, Cadmus with the Resurrection Stone, and Ignotus with the Cloak of Invisibility. I'm related to Ignotus and his cloak was passed all the way down to me. Voldemort's related to them too. What do they…" Suddenly, realization dawned and Harry let out an incredulous laugh. "Wait, let me guess. This is where you tell me that I'm either the only living descendent of any of the three brothers, or at least the one at the front of the line of succession for head of the family?"

Head bobbing, Michelle decided to change her mind and used her fingers to isolate and bring more detail to a rich gold line that ran up the left side of the tree, mostly intertwined with the red of the Potter line until it split at Osmundus Potter, the red line continuing to the left with Galfridus Potter while the gold line branched off to Osmundus's mother Dyonisia Peverell. "Long story short? Three brothers. Antioch was the oldest. He loaned the headship ring to Cadmus for his experiments with the Resurrection Stone and then got himself killed before he could reclaim it, passing the headship to Cadmus. Cadmus, contrary to popular belief, had no heirs because hello? His whole thing was wanting to see his dead fiancée again. He committed suicide to be with her, passing the headship to Ignotus. When he died, Ignotus divided the two Hallows in his possession between his two sons: his eldest became the head of the house and received the ring and the Resurrection Stone, while his younger son received the Cloak of Invisibility. The elder son's family intermarried into the Slytherin line and eventually became the Gaunts, from whom your nemesis is descended. You can see where the Peverells married into the Potters and the Cloak of Invisibility entered your family. Through some fairly complex rules of inheritance of their own making, Merope Gaunt - and therefore Tom Riddle - were ineligible to inherit any power when Marvolo and Morfin died. So now the House of Gaunt is extinct and the House of Peverell breaks itself free and reverts to its traditional rules of inheritance. Rules that put you first in line to inherit."

Harry furrowed his brow, looking back and forth between his family tree and Michelle. So what? He now had even more dead relatives - and presumably money and property - than before. How did this help him any? He'd already been rich through what he inherited from his parents and Sirius. How did being the head of five families fit into some master plan of hers? "…okay? I think I'm missing something here. Either that or you 'long story short'ed over some very important information. I knew about my family's money and the money and property I got from Sirius, but if these headships are so important, why didn't anyone ever tell me about them so I could do… whatever it is you're evidently planning for me?"

"Who exactly would have told you, Harry? The only time Hermione read up on traditional wizarding culture was when she was trying to overturn a piece of it and force modern muggle culture on the wizarding world. Ron, who was already jealous of your money and fame? Dumbledore, whose plans involved you being dead by twenty? Ginny knew about the loophole I'm planning to use, but that's exactly why she wouldn't have told you." Michelle used her finger to draw a series of boxes next to Harry's on the paper, linking them to his before adding a downward line from each connecting mark and attaching a box. "You having five headships matters because the wizarding world prefers those who are heirs to multiple houses to have multiple children so that those lines can emerge back into the population. A bunch of your classmates actually have younger siblings at other schools who have different last names, who were born specifically to breed out family lines that would otherwise be extinct after the first war. But - and here's the part Ginny knew and I'm going to take full advantage of - they want it so bad that they have a loophole in the law that allows you to take one wife per family to increase the odds of you getting all five of those children. And maybe even a few spares to boot."

For some reason, Harry couldn't even bring himself to be surprised. What Michelle was saying made perfect sense, at least if you were a stuffy old witch or wizard who cared about that kind of thing. And considering they were pretty much the entirety of the Wizengamot, even when Dumbledore was alive and leading them… yeah. He really wasn't surprised in the least. "You do realize that I can't even think of… I mean, Ginny is out for obvious reasons and Hermione would be like marrying my mother and my sister at the same time. I could maybe - and I emphasize maybe - marry Luna. She might even be okay with sharing me; Merlin knows she's one odd duck. But that's only one wife. The only other girls I've ever even talked to? One keeps crying on me because I saw her last boyfriend die, and the rest are either taken or scary. And even if Hermione wouldn't feel like two flavors of incest at once, Ginny wasn't a stalker, and Cho was stable, I don't see how marrying them - and Luna - would help me any."

"Well, if you married them all, at least when you died again it might be with a smile on your face?" Michelle waited a few beats to see if Harry cracked a smile, rolling her eyes and continuing when he didn't. "Maybe I can add a sense of humor along with everything else before I send you back. At any rate, I told you that you could have up to five wives. I didn't say you'd get to pick them for yourself. I'm going to. Well, a few of us are going to. I'm teaming up with some other Reapers to find useful women who died before they were supposed to but who - at the same time - aren't critical enough to their world to be given a second go of it. We're going to offer them two choices: move on or be turned into teenage girls and sent to help you. Considering how many people pass through here, I'm sure we'll find you some qualified help in no time."

Harry couldn't help himself, his jaw dropping as he stared at Michelle in disbelief. Mostly because he'd seen some very strange stuff go by while he was out in the waiting room, and even if they picked humans? How was he supposed to explain strange new girls showing up in his life. "…you're going to what?"

Smirking, Michelle nodded in the direction of a stack of folders that were sitting on her desk next to his own, fairly thick file. "We've been compiling candidates since your twenty-eighth death just in case this came to pass. Granted they're not technically the most qualified people in existence - they're here in the Nexus after all - but we think we've found some who will work out well. Actually, we've got more than we need at this point; I'm still trying to narrow down from our twelve semi-finalists to the final five that you'll be marrying."

Again… what?


	2. 88 MPH

Joe's Note: Not going to lie, considering this is a glued together sack of crap fusing a half-dozen plots that make us all roll our eyes - and gambling on the chance that you'll like my fivefold surprise crossovers in the future - I'm honestly surprised that I've picked up as many reviews as I have so far. Here's to hoping that your faith and interest are rewarded as we move forward. Time for more Michelle and then… a wife!  
Dedications &amp; Thanks: To Alexander, Nick, Nathan, MJ, Jessica, James, Ken, Thyatira, Daniel, Vi9, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

* * *

Smirking, Michelle nodded in the direction of a stack of folders that were sitting on her desk next to his own, fairly thick file. "We've been compiling candidates since your twenty-eighth death just in case this came to pass. Granted they're not technically the most qualified people in existence - they're here in the Nexus after all - but we think we've found some who will work out well. Actually, we've got more than we need at this point; I'm still trying to narrow down from our twelve semi-finalists to the final five that you'll be marrying."

Again… what? It made Harry wonder if maybe Michelle had been a witch before becoming a Reaper; she certainly had the 'logic' of one. But on one hand, considering his two girlfriends in his last life had been Cho and Ginny… would letting her pick out women for him to marry really be a bad thing? It wasn't like she could do any worse than a crying mess and a lunatic who'd drug him. Especially if she wanted him to live long enough to fulfill the mission she was sending him back on. The fact that they'd be drawn from the Nexus - meaning they'd also fucked up somehow and gotten themselves killed - was a little concerning, but consider he'd died over two dozen times himself… did he really have room to talk on that front?

On the other hand? Harry had no idea why he was even considering going through with Michelle's insanity. He didn't want to be married to a stranger, much less five of them, and especially not at… Harry furrowed his brow as he did a bit of mental math. Given that she was talking about five wives and the Black and Cavendish families, he was guessing that he'd be inserted back into the past somewhere between Sirius's death and when Ginny got ahold of him. So he'd be at a minimum engaged to a bunch of women - if not married to them - at fifteen. Sixteen tops. Way too young to be married at all in his mind, much less to five women at once.

Not to mention that marriage was… while Harry would be the first one to admit that his knowledge of the wizarding world was lacking, he'd never heard a single pureblood classmate mention that their parents were divorced. But even if the law allowed it, he wasn't sure he'd want to. Words were supposed to have meaning, and pledging to stay with someone forever no matter what came one's way was something that shouldn't be done by someone not willing to fulfill that promise. Which was all the more reason not to do it with a group of veritable strangers before he even graduated Hogwarts. Sadly, Harry had the sinking suspicion that… "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

Michelle shrugged, raising one hand and wobbling it back and forth. "I reckon it depends on your definition of the word 'choice'. Technically? If you want to go back and try to fix your life, then no. You don't. This is the plan I'm going with, and you'll take your five wived polygyny and like it, damn it. But in the grander scheme of things? I guess you do have a choice, yeah. You've always made the right decision in the past, but I can let you pass on. You'll go to the afterlife, be reunited with your parents and Sirius… and leave Voldemort to take over your world, kill all all your friends, and eventually move on to take over the British muggle government. The end result of that being Britain getting bombed back into the Stone Age to keep him and his Death Eaters from crossing the Channel and causing trouble for the Europeans." She offered another shrug before smirking and gesturing to the pile of folders on her desk. "Personally, I'd take the five wives if I were you. Just think: you get to save everyone you care about from being killed by Voldemort - well, except for Sirius but he needs to die for this all to work - keep Britain from being wiped off the map, and be the envy of every male you know, all at once."

"That last part isn't really a plus, you know. I already hate being famous; giving me a new claim to fame isn't going to sway me toward what you want. But… I've been fighting Voldemort since I was eleven and gave up a lot to keep at it. Hell, I just died because I thought that was the way to make sure he could be defeated once and for all. Compared to that, five wives is… okay, I might wish I was dead if I piss them all off at once, but it doesn't sound so bad most of the time. In theory." Leaning back in his seat, Harry reached up to rub his temples. He had a 'saving people thing' according to his friends. He saved people. He got hurt to save people. He'd just died to save people. If getting married saved people… who was he kidding? He was going down the aisle. Five times, evidently. "Alright, how is this all going to work? Slowly and precisely, so I don't end up back here again looking for better instructions."

Truly smiling for the first time since he'd arrived in her office, Michelle shut his far too thick file and pushed the folder off to one side before waving her hand over the cleared space. Ten rings in opened black boxes shimmered into view, grouped into five obvious pairs: one chunky, masculine-looking ring sitting alongside a slimmer and more feminine version of the same design. Two quick flicks of her wrist divided the rings into three groups: two pairs on the left, a pair in the middle, and the remaining two pairs on the right. Then, with a final wave of her hand, the ten rings rearranged themselves into two rows, all the feminine rings staying in front of her as the masculine rings moved across the desk toward him. "From left - my left, that is, meaning your right - to right, we have the rings for the Houses of Potter, Rashleigh, Peverell, Black, and Cavendish. The Potter and Rashleigh rings will be available to you right away; I'd suggest going to Gringotts and getting them as soon as you can after I send you back. The Black and Cavendish rings will have to wait until the execution of Sirius's will, when you officially inherit everything else he left you. The Peverell ring… well, Dumbledore told you where he found it. It's still there. Just try not to get killed retrieving it, yeah?"

Harry rolled his eyes; he'd seen Dumbledore waste away under the curse that protected Voldemort's horcrux. And the headmaster was far more powerful and knowledgeable than Harry was. Of course he'd be careful retrieving the ring. "So to make sure that I have this all straight… step one: I go to Gringotts, talk to one of the goblins about my inheritance, and pick up the Potter and Rashleigh rings. Step two: go to the reading of Sirius's will, inherit control of two more families, and pick up their rings. Step… either one and a half or three, depending on how things play out: go to the Gaunts' shack and retrieve the fifth ring. Third ring. Whatever." Pausing, Harry raised an eyebrow and waited for Michelle to nod in assent before continuing. "But once I have all five rings, then what? Are you going to send me back to Earth, I'll wake up with five strange women around me, and they get their rings as I find them? Or is this going to be like the horcruxes all over again and I'll need to track them down? Except wait. If you're picking them from the people that show up here, there's no saying they're even people from my world…"

"Well, it could be fun to send you on a race around the world to find five Sleeping Beauties you need to kiss and wake up or something like that, I'm not going to be that mean. After all, it took you a year to find the four horcruxes. At that rate, you wouldn't find your last wife until Halloween of seventh year, assuming you started as soon as I sent you back. No thanks." Picking up the Potter ring, Michelle held it up as she continued to speak. "No, this is where the rings become important. Each house has a master's ring and a mistress's ring. As in master and mistress of the house, not what 'mistress' usually means today. If an unmarried man assumes control of a house, the ring for the mistress of the house is absorbed into the master's ring for storage until it's needed again. Seeing as how you're not married at the moment, the instant you put each ring on, it'll seek out and recall the mistress's ring for you." Slipping the master's ring for the House of Potter onto her own ring finger, Michelle brought her hand up to eye level and stared at the ring intently as it resized itself to fit her slimmer finger. Suddenly her eyes bled white, glowing and pulsing with energy as she did… something. When the glow died down, she tugged the ring off and replaced it on the desk. "One down, four to go. I'm going to tweak the magic of each ring for you. The mistress's ring won't be the only thing stored inside of each ring of yours; your wife for that house will be too. The goblins will tell you that you can focus on the need for a ring for your wife to wear and the mistress's ring will emerge; in this case, focus on the need for the mistress's ring and a wife to wear it, and my tweak to the magic will do its job."

Seeing as how she'd already apparently finished with it, Harry picked up the Potter ring and slid it onto his own ring finger, marveling yet again at how casually magical pretty much everything in the wizarding world was as it resized itself to his finger. That would have been a week or two's work in the muggle world, maybe less if one had a lot of disposable money and was willing to throw it at a competent jeweler. Was there anything that wizards and witches didn't put magic on to avoid needing to do work? Shaking his head, Harry forced his brain back toward the topic at hand. "That's it? A woman will just appear out of thin air and she's the one who'll be my wife for that particular family or house or whatever you want to call it?" Michelle nodded and Harry let out a low chuckle. "And together the six of us find the horcruxes, destroy them, and then defeat Voldemort, all without getting killed or obliviated by Dumbledore. Well, I don't see how I could possibly mess this one up. Anything else or do I go back now?"

Michelle tapped her fingers against the desk for a moment before snapping. "Oh! Two things. One: the goblins have curse-breaking services. Remember, Bill and Fleur worked for them? There's a reason that even the most bigoted pureblood will go to them for their needs: they're the best. Keep that in mind." Harry nodded slowly and then he realized what she was trying to say: cursed ring, curse breakers, take the Peverell ring to Gringotts instead of trying to break the curse himself. After all, if Dumbledore couldn't do it… "And two: you're going to be fifteen going on sixteen again when you get back. That's losing two years of age for you. Depending on who we pick for you, some of these women might be shedding a decade or two to become your wives. There might be a bit of… turbulence… as they get used to it. Try and be supportive."

"Get Gringotts to remove the curse from the ring horcrux so I can wear it and don't be an arse to my wives while they get used to their second pass through puberty. Got it. Well then. I'm ready to go, I think. See you in another two years?" Michelle's eyes narrowed and Harry sighed. "I try making a joke for once…"

* * *

"…I'm looking forward to seeing Missus Malfoy's face when her son gets off the train."

"Goyle's mum'll be really pleased, though. He's loads better looking now." Harry blinked rapidly and looked around as he tried to get his bearings, figuring that he'd just zoned out for a bit on the ride back to King's Cross, and then it all came rushing back to him. Dying again. Meeting his Reaper. Being sent back to the end of fifth year to try things over yet again. And… judging by the conversation, he'd just missed getting to watch the DA members take on Malfoy and his bookends. Damn. That had been hilarious. Ron coughed to get Harry's attention before jerking a thumb back down the hall in the direction of their compartment. "Anyways, the food trolley's just stopped if you want anything. Thought you might want to stock up before you go back to the muggles and all."

Not that Harry had any plans to return to 'the muggles', but Ron didn't know - or need to know - that. He opened his mouth to thank his friend for the consideration before realizing something: given his utter lack of money, the only way Ron got stuff from the trolley was if Harry bought some and he stole it. So it wasn't so much that he was trying to help Harry as he was trying to help himself to some free treats. Lovely. Or maybe he was just seeing manipulation everywhere after his conversation with Michelle. Shaking his head, he gestured for Ron to precede him as they headed back toward the compartment. Squeezing in around the food trolley, Harry bought a handful of chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes just to keep up appearances before settling in.

With a return to more positive reporting, Hermione had renewed her subscription with the _Daily Prophet_ and was hidden behind her copy of that day's issue. Ginny had evidently liberated Luna's copy of _The Quibbler_ and was doing a quiz while the blonde stared intently at Neville's _Mimbulus mimbletonia_, humming along softly to the crooning noises it made as he stroked it. Having long ago - at least from his perspective - learned the futility of playing chess with Ron, Harry opted to instead just sit back and enjoy the ride, listening as Hermione read snippets from the _Prophet_ aloud to them: supposed 'tips' on how to repel dementors that Harry knew wouldn't do a damn thing in real life, articles detailing the Ministry's bumbling attempts to try and track down Death Eaters, and a hysterical letter claiming that the author had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning. Sighing, Hermione closed the newspaper and folded it in half, placing it neatly in her lap. "It won't be long now, will it? The second war is about to start…"

Before Harry could respond, Ron nodded toward the glass window that looked out into the corridor. "Hey, Harry." Harry followed the redhead's line of sight, watching as Cho slowly walked past their compartment, accompanied by the balaclava-clad Marietta. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments and then Cho blushed before speeding up, disappearing out of sight down the hallway. Shrugging it off, Harry turned his attention back to the compartment only to find that everyone's attention was on him now. "What's, err, going on with you and her anyways?"

"Nothing." Which had been the truth the first time around and was definitely true now; even if Harry had any inclination to give Cho another chance, he had five wives on the way with five weddings to follow. And while he was no love expert, Harry somehow doubted that any girl would want to go out on a date with someone who already had that many women in his life. Okay, maybe a few girls would. Like that blond Scottish witch from the last issue of _Playwizard_ that Seamus had loaned him. But not Cho or any of the other girls at Hogwarts.

Probably.

He hoped.

"I heard she's going out with someone else now." Harry looked over at Hermione and raised an eyebrow, waiting until the brunette broke eye contact and looked away before letting out a soft snort. Even in his last life, when he hadn't been worrying about the impending end of his bachelorhood, Sirius's death had caused a major shift in his priorities. Impressing Cho had gone from close to the top to firmly at the bottom. Considering he'd had no interest in her at this point in his last life, and that hadn't changed in this go around? Good on her for finding someone to give her what she needed. Or wanted. Either way, she deserved to be happy and since it sure as hell wasn't going to be with him, he was perfectly fine with her seeking happiness elsewhere.

Of course Ron had to add his two knuts to the conversation and, given the source, they were predictably shallow. "You're well out of it, mate. I mean, she's one fit bird and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful. Especially with… well, you know. You need someone to have fun with when you can, yeah?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah." And since he really had no desire to sit through a rerun of the events he knew were coming - Ginny trying to make him jealous, Ron simultaneously trying to be an overprotective older brother while shoving him and Ginny at each other for some reason known only to him, the others watching the whole spectacle like a five car pileup on the motorway… - he rose to his feet and flipped his last chocolate frog to Ron. "Not sure why, but I've got way too much energy today. Don't feel like sitting here for another hour just doing nothing, so I think I'm going to take another walk. Say hi to more people from the DA and all." Ron opened his mouth and Harry waved him off, reasonably sure of what his friend was going to say. "Don't worry, with Malfoy and his stooges taken care of, I don't think I'll have any other problems. Be back in a bit."

* * *

Pulling her head out from under Harry's chair, Michelle growled loudly before pounding her fist on the floor. "I can't believe I didn't notice that he never gave me the ring back. Maybe the Sorting Hat was on to something when it wanted to put him into Sly… nah. I'm just having an off day. Still. Damn. Well fine. He wants to play games? Wait until he sees who starts coming out of those rings. Then we'll see who gets the last laugh. Hope he likes blue…"

* * *

Contrary to what he'd told Ron, though, wandering the train wasn't at all what Harry had in mind. Shutting the door behind him as he exited the compartment, Harry turned and hustled his way down the hallway to the nearest bathroom. Entering, he shut the door behind him before slipping his hand into his pocket and grabbing the ring he'd hastily stashed there while in the Nexus. To be honest, he'd been surprised to feel it there when he'd… woken up. Returned. Whatever. But since it was here, he was going to take advantage of it to get a head start on his mission. After staring at the Potter ring for a few seconds, Harry slipped it back onto his ring finger and watched it make a few minute adjustments to compensate for his fifteen-year-old body's slightly more slender fingers. When it stopped moving, he closed his eyes and focused. A ring and the wife to wear it. How was he supposed to picture his future wife when he had no idea who the Reapers were picking out for him? Maybe… just a generic, shadowy female figure in a girls' uniform? Harry felt an odd pull on his magic akin to when he cast his patronus, and then a loud pop made him stumble back in surprise, eyes shooting open. Standing in front of him - and looking just as confused as he felt - was a girl roughly his own age his age wearing a ridiculously tight black and yellow outfit. Then understanding dawned on her face and she looked him over before sighing loudly. "Holy crap. She told me you were a disaster, but I was thinking 'send in the National Guard' level disaster, not a 'call the Avengers' kind of disaster."

"…I'd say I'm a little confused but that'd be a lie. I'm a whole lot of confused at the moment." Taking advantage of the momentary silence, Harry looked over the girl he assumed was the future Missus Potter. An inch or two shorter than him, she had short auburn hair that was a richer red than Ginny's - a bit like the photos he'd seen of his mother, actually - and Ravenclaw blue eyes. Moving further down, Harry did his best to avoid blurting out something thoroughly Ron-like. He wasn't sure if it was solely the outfit, which was far tighter than anything he'd seen a girl at Hogwarts wearing, or whether they just didn't grow them like that in the wizarding world but… bloody hell. Not wanting to be caught ogling her, Harry shook his head and offered her his hand. "Right then. I'm Harry Potter. I'm guessing you already know that from the 'she told me' bit." The girl nodded. "Ah. See, the thing is, I don't know anything about you. At all. Or any of the other wives that are going to come after you, for that matter. Michelle just told me 'five wives' and then sent me back."

The girl frowned briefly at that before shrugging, ignoring the offered hand. "Eh, we'll make do. And before you even ask, I only got the basics about the situation and you personally from Michelle and Pepper before they sent me back. Pretty much just that your name is Harry Potter, that you're a wizard with a big evil wizard nemesis to fight, that you seem to get into life-threatening trouble at least once a school year, that you've died a whole bunch of times before this last one, and that you're a fashion disaster. Although when Pepper told me fashion disaster, I was picturing something like Stephen. This is just…" She waved her hand at Harry's body. "…yikes?"

Harry looked down at the typical Dursley hand-me-downs he'd thrown on for his return to Little Whinging before scowling. It wasn't like he had a lot of options: there was no way in hell that he was going to wear anything even remotely wizarding around them, and using money withdrawn from his Gringotts vault to buy clothes he could wear back into the muggle world… had honestly never occurred to him before now. His friends, either fully or at least partially aware of his circumstances, had never said anything about what he wore. Now, for the first time, he was being confronted head on with the state of his belongings and it engendered equal parts shame and anger. "Sorry that all I own are clothes that my relatives forced on me after my whale of a cousin outgrew them. That must be so humiliating for you." Before she could say reply - and without really thinking about what he was doing - Harry drew his wand and waved it over his body. His magic jumped to respond to a command that he wasn't aware he was giving, streaming down his arm and through his wand to transfigure his baggy shirt and trousers into a smart, three-piece black suit with a Gryffindor red tie, his battered trainers turning into a pair of shiny black dress shoes to complete the outfit. "Better?"

…how the hell had he just done that? While he wasn't entirely bad at transfiguration, it certainly wasn't his strongest subject and such a complex and detailed transformation of several objects simultaneously should have been well outside of his abilities. _'Well, I decided against giving you all the knowledge you'd need to succeed this time around because that's what your wives are for… but that doesn't mean I sent you back entirely empty-handed.'_

_'Michelle?'_

_'In your flesh. Sorta. Sometimes. I've got other things to do, mind you, but I'm keeping half an eye on you just to try and prolong the inevitable.'_

Great. So not only was he getting stuck with a pile of wives he knew nothing about, but now he had a little voice inside his head, too. Wasn't that just fabulous? He was drawn from his thoughts when the redhead waved her hand in front of his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. With everything I've seen and done, I should know better than to judge someone based on their looks. Even if it's part of one of my jobs." Reaching out, she tugged his wand out of his hand and tucked it behind her ear in a move that reminded Harry of Luna before taking his hand and shaking it. "Anyway, I'm Janet. Soon to be Janet Potter, until then Janet van Dyne, and at two points Janet Pym. Superheroine, occasional television show host, fashion designer, and independently wealthy socialite. Although I don't think that last one counts anymore, since I doubt they moved my bank accounts over to this world for me…"


	3. So, Uh, You're a Superhero

Joe's Note: For those of you who are curious, while this draws on elements of both Earth-616 and _Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes_, this Janet is technically neither version. I've done that because I really don't have it in me to sit there double or triple-checking every comment she makes against my collection of _Avengers_ comics, especially given this is supposed to be a fun and cracky story. This chapter will see us expanding a bit on Janet and where the story is going, while setting us up for the introduction of another wife in the next chapter. I'll give you a hint as to her identity: Vindicator.  
Dedications &amp; Thanks: To Alexander, Nick, Nathan, MJ, James, Ken, Thyatira, Daniel, Vi9, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

* * *

Harry was drawn from his thoughts when the redhead waved her hand in front of his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. With everything I've seen and done, I should know better than to judge someone based on their looks. Even if it's part of one of my jobs." Reaching out, she tugged his wand out of his hand and tucked it behind her ear in a move that reminded Harry of Luna before taking his hand and shaking it. "Anyway, I'm Janet. Soon to be Janet Potter, until then Janet van Dyne, and at two points Janet Pym. Superheroine, occasional television show host, fashion designer, and independently wealthy socialite. Although I don't think that last one counts anymore, since I doubt they moved my bank accounts over to this world for me…"

The rest of Janet's comments were lost to Harry as he found himself fixating on one particular word: superheroine. He'd seen plenty of superheroes in Dudley's comic books and when he'd been able to sneak a peak at the movie his uncle and cousin were watching. Even taking into account the fact that she was physically his age - which Harry was assuming was a new thing based on her list of past occupations - Janet was pretty much the last person that Harry would have pictured qualifying for that title. Maybe it was sexist of him, but it really didn't seem like something that with the rest of her interests. 'One of these things is not like the other', and all that rot. "Oh. You're, uh, a superheroine? That's… different. I knew Michelle was going to recruit from around the Nexus and that not all of the people there were human, but I was figuring magical sentients or something. Not… yeah." As he trailed off, though, the pieces clicked into place in his brain and it actually made a bit of sense to Harry. He already brought magic to the list of skills possessed by his new 'family'. Another witch might bring some knowledge that he lacked due to his uneven education, but beyond that? Why bother with a second witch, or a third or fourth or fifth? Beyond maybe slight variations in knowledge, what would they bring that his first wife didn't? Sure, five wands could shoot four more spells than just one, but if there were other, more useful things out there for his wives to be good at… "What can you do?"

"I can't really show you some of my powers while we're on the train; I don't want to blow anything up or tear a hole in the roof of the car." As Janet nibbled on her lower lip uncertainly, Harry found himself reevaluating the whole 'non-witch wife' thing. He could definitely get behind the idea of a woman with that sort of power at her fingertips. "Well, I mean, I can't show you my height multiplication but there's always the opposite end of the spectrum." Before Harry could ask if 'height multiplication' was what it sounded like, tiny blue motes of light began playing over Janet's skin and she… disappeared? Harry looked back and forth wildly, only to go cross-eyed as something impacted with his nose. Taking a step back, Harry's eyes widened as he realized what he was seeing: a three inch tall version of Janet, four insect-like wings growing out of her back and vibrating furiously to keep her aloft. She could turn into a faerie? That wasn't very cool at all. Although if this was 'the opposite end'… she could turn herself into a giant, too? Okay, now that was cool. And there was still that 'blowing up' thing that she needed to demonstrate. "The Winsome Wasp, at your service."

Harry held his hand out, allowing Janet to come in for a landing on his palm. Before he could say anything, Michelle decided to offer her two knuts on the situation. _'Really, Harry? No wonder you've died so many times; you're about as good at thinking tactically as the Hulk.'_ Who? _'Someone from Janet's world; not really relevant. A really bad planner, that's all you need to know. Seriously, look at her and then think back over the life you led before ending up in my office. What was one thing your group usually lacked?'_ Err… spandex? Wings? _'Intel, Harry! You would go in practically blind, then make things up as you went to avoid getting killed. She's the perfect infiltrator. She can actually shrink down further than that, and even if she trips a ward or something and is detected? You can't hex something you can't hit.'_ Huh. He'd never really thought about things like that to be honest._ 'That's because you're an idiot, Harry. Wait, wait, lemme try that again in a Hagrid impression. Yer an idiot, Harry!'_

Was it actually possible to commit suicide via Killing Curse? Because Harry was sorely tempted to try it, just to see the look on Michelle's face when he returned to the Nexus. Squashing that urge, he leaned down and peered out the window. They weren't quite there yet, but they were close enough to London that he really ought to return to his friends. The only problem was his new plus one. How the hell was he going to explain her presence? And he had to; he couldn't just leave her here or ask her to seek him out after the train stopped. She had no idea where she was or how things worked in this universe. "Janet? Is there anything special about what you're wearing? I may need to transfigure it so-"

"Transfigure? That's what you did to your clothes, right? Stephen calls it transmutation." Hopping off his palm, Janet spun in midair before returning herself to full size and looking down at her catsuit. "I'm… not sure you can transfigure this and even if you can, I'm not sure I want you to. It's made of unstable molecules, which helps it grow and shrink with me. My powers help to some degree but unless I'm wearing something really tight and sorta flexible, it gets destroyed when I change size. Or I fall out of it. Either way, wardrobe malfunction. Not exactly something I'm big on. Which… I'm sure you could probably make some jokes with, but please don't."

Harry held his hands up in surrender; he was a bit too busy worrying about the situation to be making jokes. He couldn't use her own clothes as fodder for transfiguration. His skills with conjuring were decent enough, but he didn't want to run the risk of them being out somewhere and her clothes vanishing on her. Off her. Whatever. Any plan that involved returning to his cabin and fetching clothes - using some of his spares as transfiguration fodder, borrowing stuff from his friends, et cetera - was a non-starter because it would raise questions he couldn't easily answer. Just as he was about to get desperate and start trying to transfigure a bog roll or something into cloth that he could then reshape into appropriate attire for Janet, a solution came to him. Who could go anywhere and get anything without being unseen? "Dobby!"

Appearing with a pop, Dobby bowed low before looking back and forth between Harry and Janet curious. "What can Dobby do for the great Harry Potter and his missus?"

Before Janet could ask any of a number of questions - he doubted she had house elves in her world, after all - Harry crouched down and rested his hands on Dobby's shoulders. "I need you to do me a very big favor, Dobby. I need you to go get an entire outfit out of my trunk. One of everything that I'm wearing right…" Trailing off, he looked down at himself before revising his instructions. "One of everything that you usually see me wearing on the weekends. Okay?" Dobby nodded rapidly before disappearing with a pop, reappearing a few seconds later holding a bundle of clothing. "You're amazing, Dobby. Thanks. Do me a favor and go look in on Winky for me; we might need both of you later today. In the next few days at the latest."

Dobby sketched another bow before disappearing once more, and silence reigned for a few seconds before Janet let out a disbelieving chuckle. "Well that was certainly… different. I want to know, but not right now. We have bigger things on our plate. I'm assuming from all of this that catsuits aren't exactly socially acceptable around here?" Harry shook his head as he rose to his feet; before today, he'd never seen one that wasn't part of some sort of work of fiction. "Kay. Can you… I don't know, magical telepathy or something? I'm not saying that I don't trust you to create something I'd want to be seen wearing, I'm just saying that I don't trust you to create something I'd want to be seen wearing."

"Just for that, I'm tempted to give you something like what I've seen Luna wear… and that's not really a threat to you, is it? Since you have no idea who I'm talking about or what she looks like?" Harry sighed before making eye contact with Janet and drawing his wand. "_Legilimens_!" Gently pushing himself into her mind, he drew out the knowledge that she wanted to share with him, flicking his wand back and forth over the raw materials that Dobby had supplied him with and reshaping them to suit Janet's desires. When he was finished, he tore his gaze away from hers and took a deep breath before jerking his head in the direction of the door. "I'll be outside when you're done changing."

"What, you're not going to offer to lace my corset up for me or anything? I guess chivalry really is dead…"

* * *

"Hey, Michelle! I've got the perfect girl for you." Stepping into Michelle's office, Ophelia paused and tilted her head to the side before revising her statement. "Woman. Easy enough to turn her back into a girl though. Meet… Dianessa."

Michelle looked up from the file she was reading, raised an eyebrow, and then let out an incredulous laugh. "Well. You certainly meet the 'horny' requirement to a T."

Rolling her eyes, Dianessa carefully made her way into the office and sat down on the opposite side of Michelle's desk, the wooden chair creaking alarmingly under the weight of her armor. "Yes, because no human has ever made that joke to me before. What's next? Going to follow up with another tired 'piece of tail' joke?"

"You're a snarky little bitch, aren't you? I like you already." Leaning forward, Michelle held her hand out in Ophelia's direction, taking Dianessa's file from her fellow Reaper and opening it up. "Let's see, you're in for… you were crushed to death. All right, hit me. How'd that happen?"

"My party and I were on a quest to locate the Lightbringer Greathelm, and ended up engaged in a furious battle with an eredar of immense size and power named Archimonde. I was able to strike the killing blow… but was unable to get clear in time."

"So let me get this straight. You killed a giant monster, which caused it to collapse and squish you in the process."

"Yes."

"…that's ridiculous. You're in."

* * *

Having not paid terribly much attention to what he was transfiguring under Janet's indirect guidance, Harry almost swallowed his tongue when she stepped out of the bathroom and smiled up at him. She'd mentioned a corset, but he had assumed he'd created something for her like he'd seen on a few women around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade: the sort of thing that went over a more conventional top to help rein in their midsection. Not… "Sweet Merlin."

"I'm guessing that's a compliment around these parts?" Janet's grin widened as she did a pirouette, making the pleated black skirt she was wearing flare up a bit. When she came to a stop, she ran her hands up her sides as she stared down at the remarkable display of cleavage that her corset was creating. "I can't drink again legally for a few years and I'm pretty sure that I can already feel a zit forming, but at least my breasts look amazing. Not that they didn't when I died, mind you, but there's a certain perkiness that you start to lose by the time you're forty. I mean, unless you're Felicia." She continued to stare down at her breasts for a few seconds longer before tilting her head a bit further to the side so she could examine the corset itself. "Points for the color scheme that sticks to my personal aesthetic, but what's up with the badger?"

Doing his best to keep his eyes on her face rather than her chest, Harry nodded before grabbing the robe that Janet had draped over her arm. She seemed to take great delight in making him work for things as he tried to help her into it, refusing to move unless he laid his hands on her. Eventually, though, he had her sorted out and smoothed his hands along the fabric that covered her arms. "I need to pass you off as a fellow student. There are four houses at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. It's not uncommon for students - especially girls - to own casual clothes in their house colors. Hufflepuff just so happens to be-"

"Black and yellow. So I blend in and I feel comfortable. Smart. Maybe there's hope for you yet." Bending forward, Janet grabbed the hemline of her skirt and hiked it up a bit to show off the tops of her stockings, some creamy thigh, and a pair of vaguely familiar black straps. Then she looked up, winking as she met Harry's wide-eyed gaze. "You're lucky I know how to lace up a corset on my own. Are you at least going to help me fasten these garters?" Blushing as red as Ron's hair, Harry abruptly turned away, making Janet sigh behind him. "You are absolutely no fun, you know that, right?"

Grumbling under his breath, Harry decided to be decidedly ungentlemanly and strode off down the corridor, raising one hand and beckoning for Janet to follow. So hex him for not knowing how to handle a very attractive and very forward woman. It wasn't like he had tons of experience with that, or with women in general for that matter. After a few seconds, he heard rapid footfalls and then Janet slid into position on his right. "So, you're going to be a fellow student. Hufflepuff. I'm thinking that you're going to be a sixth year because that's a group of students that my friends and I don't really interact with much; there's no way to pass you off as one of our yearmates and we got to know a lot of the younger 'puffs this year through Dumbledore's Army. You can use your real name - van Dyne, obviously, not Potter - and… hmm. Why are you with me? Oh. You're a half-blood whose parents just moved. I'm going to help you figure out which train to take home because while they're half-bloods, they've raised you mostly wizarding. Which is why I'm with you and why you're following me out into King's Cross. Got it?"

Janet snorted as she looped her arm through his. "Harry, I've had to absorb and execute battle plans that span continents and rely on me knowing the powers and abilities of all of my teammates in exacting detail. I can handle fooling your friends for a few minutes. Honest." Well, at least one of them was confident that they could pull the charade off. Personally, Harry would have preferred to have an hour or twelve to get Janet up to speed with the wizarding world. "Since you're not actually going to walk me to the right platform and send me on my merry way, though… mind telling me what the actual plan is?"

"We may need to go all the way back to Little Whinging with my relatives, but I'm hoping we can break away sooner. Either way, our first stop will be Gringotts, the wizarding bank. I need to talk to my account manager and see what we're working with in terms of money and property. Hopefully I've inherited at least one other house in this whole mess, because there's no way I can keep you at Number Four and I really don't want to go back to Grimmauld Place. I'll also be able to get my hands on the Rashleigh ring, which means…" Trailing off, Harry looked over at Janet before grimacing. He was still getting used to her, did he really need the inevitable complications that would arise from taking up his second ring? On the other hand, he posited, it could be like ripping off a band-aid: the sooner it was over and done with, the better. "You came out of the Potter ring. Three guesses what the Rashleigh ring means for us."

Clapping her hands together excitedly, Janet nodded. "Polygamy! I'm really hoping that it's someone else from my corner of the multiverse; I saw versions of a few of my teammates while I was waiting in the Nexus. First choice would have to be Carol; she's got an ass that you can bounce a half-dollar off of and put it into orbit. Natasha would actually make a good addition from a 'we need to beat a bad guy' standpoint, since I'm guessing you guys don't really have a way to defend against modern guns. Or some of her other toys. Um… oh, Jess! She's got a lot of powers that would be useful. Energy blasts, she can fly, she can stick to walls, she's super strong, there's this pheromone thing that lets her control men… although we'd have to be careful. There was a brunette in the Nexus calling her Jessica Drew who turned out to be a genderswapped clone of a teenage boy. That would probably be a bit too close to being gay for either of your comfort."

Harry nodded along at what he felt were appropriate moments as she spoke, only to come up short at the last bit. Coming to a stop, he looked over at her in disbelief. "And here I thought my life was odd… and yet you can say that sort of stuff with a straight face."

"Sweetie, one of my girlfriends married a robot and had two kids with him. I have dealt with weird stuff than a boy in a girl's body. Or for that matter, being transported to a new universe and deaged so that I can be one of the Chosen Five for the Chosen One. And before you ask, previously married but this is my first experience with polygamy. Not for lack of trying, mind you; one of my old teammates was interested but Hank wasn't too keen on the idea." Janet shrugged before giving a tug on Harry's arm, jolting him back into forward motion. "Anyway, did you see some of the aliens in there? Holy crap. I met a bunch of aliens as an Avenger, but there was probably three unknown species in that place for every one species I can name."

That was a sentiment that Harry could definitely agree with. Although his frame of reference had been magical sentients and now that he thought of it, were they sure the strange things they'd both seen were actually aliens? Janet assumed as much but it wasn't like she knew about other types of non-humans. They could have very well been magical sentients that he just didn't recognize. Or maybe a mixture of both? Or even magical sentients from other planets? Who was to say that they were the only ones in the universe with magic? "There was this one girl… green skin, pointed ears, these strange little ridges on her chin? She was kind of cute. If I'm going to end up with a non-human wife, I suppo-"

Janet let out a little giggle at that before rubbing her free hand over his arm. "Ooh, so you really do have good taste after all. That was a Skrull. I've dealt with them before. They're shapeshifters at a minimum; some have other powers too but that's one thing they all share. Which means she'd be like… buy one wife, get every other wife in existence, free." Oh. So an alien Tonks then. That was… bloody awesome, Harry was forced to concede. In equal measures for the potential uses in the war against Voldemort and the exact reason that Janet had mentioned. "Hey, question. Do you guys have any Americans at your school? Exchange students or something? Or should I pretend to have lost my voice or that I'm shy or something?"

…well, it was a good thing that one of them had thought of that, because Harry certainly hadn't. Shit. "Just be shy and smile. We've stalled enough that we shouldn't need to be in the compartment long." Indeed, Harry peered through the compartment they were standing beside at the scenery outside; based on the buildings they were currently passing, they were mere minutes from arriving at King's Cross. Finally reaching his compartment, Harry pulled the door open and raised his hand to ward off questions as he stepped inside. "Long story, I'll tell you about it in a letter this summer. Everyone, this is Janet. Janet, this is… Neville, Luna, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione." He pointed to each person as he listed them off, then moved a bit to one side so Janet could offer them a wave. "Her parents moved a few weeks ago and expect her to take the train to the station closest to their new house. I figured that since I need to head out into the muggle side anyway, I can give her a hand figuring things out. Yes, Hermione, you're more familiar with all of this but you're going to be heading off somewhere with the Weasleys and that's why I didn't bring her back here to ask you for help." The brunette closed her mouth before nodding to concede the point. "We're almost there, though, so I came back to collect my stuff because… well, without it, I'm not going anywhere, now am I?"

His words served to remind the group that not only did their ride have an end, but that it was rapidly approaching. As the compartment burst into motion, Harry carefully waded into the middle of everything and grabbed his belongings. From within her cage, Hedwig looked back and forth between Harry and Janet several times before hooting and tucking her head under her wing. Thankfully, nobody noticed either that odd behavior or Janet's own lack of luggage, allowing Harry to make his escape without having to lie to his friends any more than he already had. After the battle at the Ministry, few people were in a hurry to get in his way and the pair were the first people out onto the platform once the train finally came to a stop. The ticket inspector - who didn't actually inspect tickets, as best Harry could tell - was waiting for them as always by the barrier and on his signal, Harry and Janet breezed through the illusory wall and into the far more crowded muggle side of King's Cross.

Knowing what awaited him on the other side - and knowing what an encounter between the Dursleys and wizards would do to his chances of getting them to cooperate with his plan - Harry did his best to look nonchalant as he slipped sideways into the surging crowd of platform ten, skirting around where the Weasley parents and the twins were waiting to welcome home Ron and Ginny, and Moody, Lupin, and Tonks waited for their chance to form up on him and head over to intimidate his uncle. The Dursleys were right where they were supposed to be and Harry found them easily, handing Hedwig off to his cousin and pointing towards the exit. "Go."

"Boy, I don't know what…"

"Listen, some wizards I know want to talk to you. Here. In front of all these decent, normal folks. Unless you want them to come over and make a scene, I suggest we get out of here. Now." Uncle Vernon cycled between a few different shades of red, purple, and white with an almost alarming rapidity before settling on white and grunting, spinning on his heel and stomping off. Janet muttered something distinctly unflattering under her breath but Harry chose to ignore it for the moment, nodding to his aunt and cousin before offering Janet his arm once more. As soon as she'd latched on to him, Harry was in motion, taking full advantage of the opening in the crowd that his uncle's girth was creating.

By the time they all reached the car, Uncle Vernon had regained a bit of his bluster, whirling around to glare at Harry as he jabbed one fat finger in the boy's direction. "I may have gone along with that because you're right, I didn't want those freaks to make a scene in public. But you'd better believe that as soon as we get home, you're going to pay for that. And… who's that trollop clinging to your arm, and what is she doing with you?"

Harry drew himself up to his admittedly unimpressive full height at that. Because while he was well and truly used to the Dursleys' abuse after all these years, he wasn't going to let them go after Janet too. "That 'trollop' has a name: Janet Potter. Lady of the Noble and Most Honorable House of Potter, and my wife. And no, I won't be paying for anything because I won't be going home with you. I only followed you out here because I don't want to be around those specific wizards right now any more than you do. So, without further ado? We'll be on our way. I'd say that it's been nice knowing you all, but I'd be lying and if there's one thing that Hogwarts has taught me - apart from magic, that is - it's that I must not tell lies. Oh, and Aunt Petunia? Something to keep in mind? In our world, there are ways to talk to the dead. It turns out that my mum's been watching over me all of these years. She's seen everything, and she can't wait to have a nice little… chat… with you."

That said, he apparated away with a faint pop.


	4. The Vindicator

Joe's Note: Had some interesting guesses about the identity of the upcoming Lady Rashleigh along with suggestions for the wives who will follow. I think one or two of you even got the former right, while the latter… well, I had a number of ideas laid out when I started this story and I don't think anyone guessed any of them. Or maybe one person came close and I responded privately with a bit of a spoiler. At any rate, this is going to be the story that just keeps on surprising for a lot of you… so let's get back to it!  
Dedications &amp; Thanks: To Alexander, Nicholas, MJ, Judedeath, James, Ken, Thyatira, Daniel, William, Koby, Wil, Thomas, Christopher, Pat, Vi9, Chris, Alex, Juan, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

* * *

Appearing in Diagon Alley, Harry found himself thankful he'd chosen an out of the way side niche to apparate into when Janet tore her arm out of his and lurched forward, hitting her knees and vomiting all over the cobblestones. "That… was… awful! Never, ever, ever do that to me again. Ever!"

Harry winced as Janet continued to retch loudly, bringing up what appeared to be approximately everything she'd eaten in her previous life. While this was technically the first time that he'd apparated, the memories of previous lives had prepared him for the sensation. And taught him how to do it, of course. Crouching down beside Janet, Harry placed Hedwig's cage on the ground to free up a hand so that he could rub slow circles on Janet's back. "Sorry, I've never apparated with someone before and so I never even thought about how it might affect you. Technically speaking, that was actually the first time I've apparated period, at least in this life, so me forgetting to warn you is completely natural… but that doesn't really help your stomach any, now does it? Have I mentioned that I'm sorry?"

"Yes, because 'sorry' gets the taste of bile and half-digested shrimp scampi out of my mouth."

Well, 'sorry' couldn't but magic certainly could. Drawing his wand, Harry waited until he was sure that she was done vomiting before vanishing the mess on the cobblestones. While they'd appeared well off the beaten path, there was no need to be uncivilized and leave that lying around for someone else to step in. One problem taken care of, Harry brought his other hand up to cup Janet's chin, gently tilting her head up and toward him until their eyes met. Poking the very tip of his wand into her open mouth, he wordlessly fired off a charm that Hermione had discovered during one of her many excursions to the library. It was the perfect spell for the dentist's daughter, he mused: it cleaned a person's teeth better than any manual brushing could while simultaneously freshening their breath. Leaning back a little, he looked Janet over speculatively - thankfully it seemed she'd avoided getting any down her front or on her hands or arms when she hit the ground - before tilting his head to one side. "Is that good enough for now, or do you want me to conjure up a goblet and some water so you can wash your mouth out?"

Janet responded with a shake of her head before abruptly breaking into tinkling, bell-like giggles. At Harry's confused look, she did her best to adopt an innocent expression. "Sorry. I'm trying really, really hard to be mature here but you have no idea how much self-control it's taking not to start in on the twenty or so 'wand in my mouth' jokes I've got stacking up in my brain right now." Granted Harry was far from experienced when it came to being with a girl, but he definitely knew enough to blush at that one. His discomfort went unnoticed, though, as Janet abruptly fixated on a new problem. "And oh God, I'd forgotten that I was a giggler as a teenager. Guess I am again. Both a teenager and a giggler, that is. Well, the first one was obvious but now we know about the giggling too, I mean." Again reminding him of Luna, Janet abruptly jumped from one train of thought to the next, tongue flicking out before running over her teeth experimentally. "And I think I'm good. You know, wand jokes aside, your magic is pretty cool. Not many people I know can - or do - use theirs outside of combat. The idea of a 'trip to the dentist' spell just, like, blows my mind." She let out a snort of laughter before clapping her hands over her mouth in horror, eyes going wide. "Oh God! I did not just do that! Pepper, you bitch! I can't believe you brought the snort back too!"

Harry bit his lip to avoid laughing at the look of dismay on Janet's face. Personally, he found both her giggling and the strange little snort kind of cute. More than a few girls at school - or at least an unfortunate number of the ones who spent time around him - felt the need to act more mature than their age actually required them to be. It was refreshing to find someone who acted their age… acted human, dare he say? But while it was safe to say that Harry knew very little about girls, he had a suspicion that 'you may not like something about you but it's okay because I do' wouldn't go over well. So instead, Harry decided to let the matter drop and move on to matters of greater import. Rising to his feet, he helped Janet stand before leaning down to grab his familiar's cage. Hefting it, he undid the latch and opened the door. "Fly to a nearby park and relax for a few days, girl, then come and find me. Okay?" Hedwig bobbed her head before hooting in understanding, launching herself from the cage and winging her way off into the cloudless afternoon sky.

Turning back to Janet, Harry found his next words dying on his lips at the sight of her shoving both hands down the front of her corset as she adjusted the contents. As he stuttered, Janet looked up from what she was doing and offered him an impish smirk, causing Harry to blush and look away and in turn earning him an explosive sigh. "You know, at first I thought you were just trying to be gentlemanly because we'd just met, but this is getting ridiculous. I'm standing here in front of you fondling my breasts for a reason, Harry. Well, two reasons. One: the contents definitely shifted during flight and so I have to get things back where they're supposed to be. And two: because I'm desperately looking for some sort of sign that this isn't going to be the equivalent of a political marriage, with us crossing paths now and then before retiring to separate bedrooms at opposite ends of the house. Because I've already done the emotionally distant husband thing. I did it for over twenty years. And you know what? It fucking sucked!"

"Well excuse me for not being ready for… any of this! All of this! I didn't choose this!" Clenching his fists, Harry stared up at the sky for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of his own. Slowly and hesitantly, he lowered his gaze until it met Janet's, doing his best not to look down despite her admonition otherwise. "Well, I suppose I did choose this. But only because my other option was passing on to the other side and leaving my friends behind to get tortured and killed by Voldemort. Literally, that was it: permanent death or polygyny. Of course I picked the option that let me come back and save everyone."

Janet finished what she was doing and pulled her hands free so that she could offer him some polite applause. "And that's very noble and admirable of you, Harry. Honest. But while I know this is going to sound amazingly selfish… tell me, did you ever stop to think about us? As in me and the other four women who are getting pulled into this? Yes, we're technically picking this too because we're getting the same 'stay dead or be wed' choice, but…" Trailing off, she thought for a few moments before shrugging helplessly. "I'm trying really hard not to sound like a bitch, but what's in it for me? This isn't my world. These aren't my people. Your friends are strangers to me. I was supposed to help you put this Voldemort guy down for good and then go on to live a nice, happy life to make up for the shit I had to deal with in my world. If that's not going to happen… tell me again why I should help you?"

Because it was the right thing to do? Presumably Janet already knew that, though, and didn't care. She did have a point, though, Harry had to admit. He'd come back due to loyalty to his friends and adoptive world, and had fought before that to avenge his parents and later Sirius. He couldn't rightfully expect people with absolutely no personal connection to his fight to care about it, or stick around if there was an alternative. Not without any reason to do so. And she was also right in saying that given Harry had essentially volunteered them to be a part of this mess… he was supposed to be at least a part of that reason. "I'm not saying that I hate you, that I don't want you, or that you aren't going to be happy in the long run. With or without me. I'm just… this is all very new to me. And even if it wasn't, you're new to me. I need you to treat me like Hank on the day you met him, not Hank on the day you died. Or… your first boyfriend on the day you met him. Whichever one was more awkward. Because that's about where I am when it comes to relationships right now. Even counting my other lives, I've only had two girlfriends. One lasted a single date, and the other was drugging me to make me love her."

Opening and closing her mouth several times, Janet eventually settled on a soft humming noise. "That… would explain things. My best guess was that you'd been with someone through your past lives and were still hung up on her, so the idea of me flirting with you or you having wives who weren't her was making you uncomfortable. Not… that." She regarded Harry critically for a few seconds, and then the corner of her mouth ticked upward. "Well, I suppose I should look on the bright side. If I'm the one popping your cherry, you won't have any bad habits I need to break you of."

"…that's the kind of thing you would have said to your first boyfriend on the day you met him?"

"Maybe not the first boyfriend, no. Then again, I met him when I snuck into a party and we ended up screwing in someone's bedroom, so I'm not really sure you want to be compared to him."

"Um, no. Probably not." Harry eyed Janet uncertainly, trying to figure out a way to vocalize his thoughts that wouldn't result in him getting slapped. Or hexed. Wait, she wasn't a witch. Still, she had powers she could use on him, and he wasn't keen on that prospect. Finally, he decided to dig up a bit of Gryffindor courage and give voice to his thoughts. "Just out of curiosity, I figured that you'd be a lot more experienced because of the whole marriage thing, but I'm getting the feeling that you're far more… adventurous… than I am."

Rather than get upset, Janet just arched an eyebrow at his observation. "Harry, before Pepper deaged me so I could be a part of Michelle's mad experiment? I was old enough to be your mother. Older, actually, if I remember the timeline they showed me right. Yes, I've had lots of sex and tried plenty of fun and interesting things… over a period of two and a half decades. So if you'd do me a favor and not try to make me sound like a giant slut or something, I'll do you a favor and not kick you in the balls. After height multiplying."

Harry's eyes went wide as he nodded rapidly. "Right then. No judging what you did for fun before you met me. Got it. Moving on… why don't we head to Gringotts? I'd offer to let you go exploring and shopping in the alley while I deal with them, since I'm guessing goblins aren't exactly something you're used to…" He waited a second for Janet to shake her head before continuing. "…but there are two problems with that idea. One: I need to take out some galleons before we do anything, so you'd need to come into the bank with me anyway. And two: I'm pretty terrible at being rich. I mean, it's taken me from my eleventh birthday until now to come and even claim my accounts. You, on the other hand, were evidently very good at being rich."

"Pfft, what's this 'were' shit? I'm still good at being rich, Harry, I just need some money to be rich with. Granted I was more of an LLC girl than private wealth management in my old life, but I'm sure I can figure things out. There are going to be some terms and conditions, though, and don't even look at me like this. Normally I'd have Jen write up a contract for you to sign; I'm trying to show you a little trust here." Janet raised one hand, sunlight glinting off the three gems set into the band of her ring, and began ticking off points on her fingers. "Firstly, I'm in charge. No ifs, ands, or buts. This is my operation. I know what I'm doing and you don't. I'll teach you as I go if you really want to learn, and I may need to ask you a few questions when it comes to magical things, but you're not going to sit around second-guessing my every move."

That made plenty of sense, and so Harry quickly nodded. After all, this was why he was asking her to do this: he was clueless when it came to business and finances, while she was very much not. "What else?"

Janet seemed surprised at how quickly he agreed to her term, and it took a few seconds before she could collect herself and continue. "Um… two. I'm the first one here, you're turning me into the financial head of the house, I'm Lady Potter, et cetera. And so while I'm hoping you won't play favorites when it comes to your wives - especially because you might decide someone else is your favorite and that would really suck for me - this is one place you're going to. I control the purse strings. I'll set up living allowances so that everyone can have what they need, but I don't want to have to liquify investments to cover our asses because someone bought fifty-seven pairs of shoes in one afternoon."

Also quite sensible. And was buying fifty-seven pairs of shoes really something that a woman did? Because given that Harry was going to have five wives… even if Janet seemed against the practice, not having someone to hold the others in check meant there was a possibility of up to two hundred and twenty-eight pairs of new shoes showing up in his house without warning. And he had no idea where he would put that many shoes, even in a mansion. So… "I am a hundred and ten percent behind this idea. Anything else?"

"This paragraph… conversation… thing… is the last time I'm going to bring it up. But we're going out on a date tonight. And tomorrow night. And we're going to figure out this relationship thing, and work through your intimacy issues. Because after we kill the fuck out of this Voldemort schtupe?" Janet gave Harry a wide, wicked grin as she closed the distance between them, pressing her chest against his. "We are going on a honeymoon, and I am going to ride you until you beg me to stop. Comprende?"

Harry swallowed nervously at that, taking a step back to put a bit of distance between them. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Then let's get this show on the road. I have a feeling this is going to take a while, and I want to be done in time to enjoy some retail therapy before we go out for dinner."

* * *

_I, Sirius Orion Black, residing at 12 Grimmauld Place, London, declare this to be my Will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made._

**_ARTICLE I: Funeral Expenses &amp; Payment of Debt_**

_I direct my executors to pay my enforceable unsecured debts and funeral expenses, any expenses of my last illness, and the expenses of administering my estate. Hopefully, I'll go out in a blaze of glory and spells, and receive a hero's burial from the Ministry making all of that a moot point. If I don't, try to guilt Dumbledore into footing the bill. Spending money on your own funeral just seems narcissistic to me._

**_ARTICLE II: Money &amp; Personal Property_**

_I give all my tangible personal property to my godson, Harry James Potter. If he does not survive me, it means I royally fucked up my job as godfather. If such a case arises, I give that property to Remus John Lupin. Harry or Moony: Buy some new clothes, live it up in the family home, and do anything you can think of that would piss off my parents. Then make sure to tell my mother's portrait all about it. In either case, the following legacies and bequests apply:_

_To Frederick and George Weasley, I leave my Hogwarts school trunk and a sum of ten thousand galleons to go towards the research of new jokes and pranks and the expansion of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Solemnly swear you'll be up to no good with the money and make the world laugh, boys._

_To Hermione Jane Granger, I leave the contents of the library at 12 Grimmauld Place. You'd likely end up reading and explaining them to Harry anyways, and you would appreciate them a lot more._

_An additional sum of five thousand galleons is to be set aside for the future spouse of Harry James Potter. Lady, whoever you are, you're going to need some serious stress relief with his lifestyle. Enjoy some trips to really fancy spas or something, it's on me._

_To Nymphadora Tonks, I leave twenty percent of my total monetary wealth (prior to other legacies). You're the only blood family alive worth noting, Nymphadora. Well, with the exception of your mother and I doubt she'd want my money. Enjoy life, maybe quit your job… and for Merlin's sake, move out of that shithole flat of yours._

_If Harry is still alive, I leave twenty percent of my total monetary wealth (prior to other legacies) to Remus John Lupin. Hopefully I can control my appetites for alcohol and muggle hookers between now and when I get offed so that's still a goodly amount of money. If not… mischief managed?_

**_ARTICLE III: Real Estate_**

_I give all my residences, subject to any mortgages to my godson, Harry James Potter. Harry, if you can talk Moony into it, give him a place to live. If not… sneak into wherever he's staying, take all his stuff, and move it into a spare bedroom anyways. If he does not survive me, I give that property to Remus John Lupin._

**_ARTICLE IV: Residuary Clause_**

_I give all the rest, residue, and remainder of my estate to my godson, Harry James Potter. If he does not survive me, I give my residuary estate to Remus John Lupin. Is anyone here sensing a theme yet? And the goblins can't give me an explanation for what this means in language I can understand, so if someone can figure it out, fill Harry in because I'm pretty sure he won't know either._

**_ARTICLE V: Guardian_**

_Oddly enough, the goblins didn't have a prewritten article for this and so I had to wing it. Since Dumbledore has cocked up any chance of my godson having a normal childhood, if this will is actually being recognized by the Ministry, it means that I have been cleared of criminal charges and would be named his guardian as per the will of James and Lily Potter née Evans. And since I don't want to go through the hassle of trying to figure out a list of potential people I trust to become his guardian, I hereby declare that my last act as Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black is to emancipate Harry James Potter._

**_ARTICLE VI: Head of Family_**

_In accordance with those antiquated, patriarchal notions the Blacks were so fond of, my word still goes as far as inheritance of the Head of Family position goes. Sucks to be you, Cissa. And you, Andy, but I doubt you want your daughter mixed up in pureblood politics anyways. While the size of the family tree means that magical adoption hasn't come into play in the last dozen generations, the title should pass on to my godson, Harry James Potter. Harry, just try the ring on and see what happens. If it burns your hand off, it means I was wrong. No big deal, right? If it doesn't, it means you inherit the entirety of the Black Family wealth. Cross your fingers while you still have them._

"This is all quite remarkably straightforward, especially given who was involved both in a personal sense and a familial one." Looking up from the sheet of parchment in front of him, Glassjaw studied Harry for a few seconds before turning his attention more firmly to Janet. That made the corner of Harry's mouth quirk up; the goblin had seemed a bit uncertain about the idea at first, but he was quickly adapting to the idea of a woman at the head of a wizarding household's finances. "Any questions, Lady Potter?"

Janet hummed softly before looking up from her own copy of Sirius's will. "Article Two is going to need to be handled carefully, specifically the third bequest. Lord Potter will be engaged in an… unusual… lifestyle. In the interest of fairness, I think that twenty-five thousand galleons should be set aside in five distinctly separate accounts before Article Four is handled."

Letting out a bark of laughter, Glassjaw's eyes slid rightward to rest on Harry once more. "You are a far braver being than I, Lord Potter. Far, far braver. But very well. Consider it done. Now, shall we move on to the investiture of the rings? I took the liberty of sending for the Rashleigh ring and the Potter Will when I heard that you were here to meet with me."

"If it's all the same to you, perhaps we can handle the Rashleigh ring today and push everything else - including my parents' will - off to another day?" Harry swallowed nervously as the goblin eyed him, wondering how to convey his wishes without sounding like a crazy person. While there was a chance that the goblins knew about the Nexus and people like him - they did handle most matters surrounding life and death for the wizarding world - there was also a chance that talking about death, rebirth, and angels would earn him a one-way ticket to the bed next to Lockhart's at St. Mungo's. Finally, he settled on a likely enough sounding story. "I have it on… very good authority… that there might be complications with any given headship I take on. So taking on more than one at a time just sounds like a terrible idea to me."

"How good of authority are we talking about here, Lord Potter?"

Harry shot a quick glance over at Janet before sighing and pointing one finger upward as he stared into Glassjaw's disbelieving eyes. "Supremely good authority."

After a few seconds, Glassjaw offered a grin full of sharp teeth as he chortled lowly. "I knew you both felt odd, her more so than you. You're Nexus-touched, then. If I was allowed to wager while on the job, I would bet this year's salary that she isn't even of this world… is she, Lord Potter?" Reaching up, Harry tapped the side of his nose gently, setting off a new round of laughter in Glassjaw. "And here I thought that the late Lord Black would be the most interesting client I had for quite some time. Shall I assume then that these 'complications' might have something to do with… others of Lady Potter's kind?"

"Yes and no. I would tell you more, but I honestly don't know much. Janet herself was a surprise to me when I took up the Potter ring." Harry leaned forward, picking up a semi-familiar ring that he'd first laid eyes upon in Michelle's office, turning it end over end between his fingers. "I have no idea what till happen when I put this thing on. Well, I know what will happen when I put it on. I don't know what will happen when I… when things get complicated."

Glassjaw sat up a bit straighter, rubbing his hands together eagerly as he stared at Harry's hands. "Shall we find out, then? While we're aware of their existence, knowledge of Nexus-touched is restricted to those who are required to interact with them. I find this all quite fascinating."

Giving the ring one last twist, Harry took a deep breath before sliding the Rashleigh ring onto his middle finger just to avoid creating a pile up on his ring finger. What he was going to do with the rest, he honestly had no idea; the idea of walking around with gaudy and expensive rings on all the fingers of one hand just seemed ludicrous to him. He waited for the ring to finish shifting sizes to suit his finger, and then closed his eyes as he tried to replicate what he'd done earlier to summon Janet. Willing his magic to create a ring and a wife to wear it. Pushing it forward to give life to his desires. A pulling sensation, an audible pop, and then… "Goblin!"

Eyes shooting open, Harry leapt up out of his seat at the sight that greeted him. Because whatever he'd been expecting to come out of the Rashleigh ring, it was certainly not a seven foot tall, purple-skinned, goat… woman… thing. In gleaming purple and gold plate armor. Who was wielding a massive hammer with a glowing purple crystal for a head. But before he could say anything, Janet managed to sum up his thoughts for him rather concisely. "Holy shit."


	5. Growing Pains

Joe's Note: Wow, the Dedications &amp; Thanks portion has gone from two lines to four since last time I updated this. Cool beans. Proving that nothing is ever dead unless I explicitly tell you it is… it's time to dive back into _Harry Potter and the Polygyny Misadventure_! Not going to lie, I was sorely tempted to include Narcissa as one of his wives in this story but I did say they'd all be blue girls after Janet… and I'm going to be using MILFCissa in another story or two in the near future. Apart from _Harry Potter and the Wand of Uru_, I mean. She's pretty MILFy there, sure, but I mean more that she'll be a mother that Harry wants to fuck. Which was a crush he had ruined for him in _Wand of Uru_ when he found out that his mom was tapping that ass. And I'm rambling. Shutting up now. Enjoy the story, and review if you have time!  
Dedications &amp; Thanks: To Nicholas, Alexander, Howard, Alonsis2, Connor, MJ, Daniel, Christopher, Eric, DireSquirrel, Kentucky Fried Dragon, Joseph, mpop, RileyWestfall, bloodylord, Luke, Zachary, Marc, Ziryo, Elliot, Crusifikz70, Timothy, Leigh, Jason, Chris, George, Koby, Ken, Dimitria, William, Invernos, Paul, Pat, Warren, Mitch, and Jess for sponsoring me on , and making it easier for me to spend more of my time writing.

* * *

"Holy shit."

…that summed things up nicely, yeah. Harry's mouth worked soundlessly as he stared up at his new wife in a combination of awe and disbelief. Awe because… well, it was an armored girl who was more than a foot taller than him, wearing armor that probably weighed as much as he did while wielding a ridiculously large hammer. Disbelief because… well, the obvious. Given that Michelle had access to beings from other dimensions and even other worlds, he would have been foolish to assume that all five of his wives would end up being completely human… or human-passing like in Janet's case. But this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined, and he'd actually been starting to warm up to the idea of a green-skinned alien shapeshifter wife.

Wait. Why was his giant goat wife raising her hammer?

"For the naaru! For the light!"

Before Harry could react to the unprovoked attack, Janet brought her legs up and kicked off of Glassjaw's desk, sending herself flipping over the back of the chair to land lightly on her feet. Then those tiny blue motes of light that he'd seen earlier on the train made a return and the clothes that he'd created for her were torn to shreds as Janet began to grow. Stretching upward, she quickly met the newcomer's height and then surpassed it, topping out at what had to be damn near fifteen feet tall. Oh. So 'height multiplication' was exactly as amazing as he'd thought it would be. Wicked. Plucking the hammer from the astonished goat girl's hands, Janet wrapped her other arm around the newcomer's body and squeezed, pinning her arms to her sides. "Hey, I'm Janet. Nice to meet you. Love the horns and from what I saw, you have a really adorable tail, too. Gonna make jokes about both in a bit, but for now? We really need Glassjaw's help sorting out a bunch of different things and so I'd really appreciate it if you could not turn him into Soylent Goblin on us."

Glassjaw flinched backward, his hands gripping the arms of his chair as he stared up at the pair with wide eyes. "Quite. While we goblins enjoy the thrill of battle, we're also smart enough to realize when we're grossly outmatched." His eyes began bouncing back and forth between Harry and the pair of women rapidly. "I served your father loyally, Lord Potter, and his father before him. I was looking forward to serving you, your wives, and your children as well. Your children's children, even. I have no idea what I did to offend Lady Rashleigh so, but-"

"And assuming this doesn't put you off of being my account manager, Glassjaw, we'd love to continue working with you for years to come. I'm sure this is all just a giant misunderstanding." Pun… not entirely intended, but somewhat funny nonetheless. Harry rose to his feet, interposing himself between Glassjaw and the newcomer before looking her up and down slowly. Once he looked past her sheer size and her intimidating armor, he realized, she was actually kinda pretty. She was over a foot taller than him, and the biceps the size of his thighs made Harry reasonably certain that she could literally break him in half… but she was pretty. As she turned her head to peer up at Janet again, he noticed that her ears were pointed; that was pretty wicked. The tendrils coming off either side of her jaw were just plain weird, but the combination of her glowing eyes and her snow-white hair sorta cancelled that particular negative out. The horns… he could take or leave. They were cute horns, but they were still horns. "We seem to be getting off on the wrong… err, hoof. My name is Harry Potter. Unless they sent you into this completely blind, I'm going to assume you at least know who I am? Both in general and in relation to you?"

The girl shot another uncertain glance up at Janet, prompting the redhead to release her captive and step back, blue light playing over her skin once more as she returned to her normal height. Janet let out a squeak as her liberated hammer promptly dragged her over, sending her sprawling onto the floor, and the goat girl let out a small snort of laughter before finally answering Harry's question. "I do. Ophelia and Michelle were not exhaustive in the information that they chose to share with me, but I know enough to get by. You are to be… or rather you are my husband. The girl who restrained me is Janet Potter, your other wife. My sister-at-arms. There will be three others arriving in the near future, who I know regrettably little about except that they will all be blue." Wait, what? Harry's confusion must have shown on his face, because the still-nameless girl offered a slightly wider smile before elaborating. "Michelle seemed irritated that you stole something from her, and appears intent on providing you with nothing but blue-skinned wives. She judged me to be 'close enough'." Even as Harry tried to process that, the goat girl leaned to one side so that she could peer past Harry suspiciously. "I had heard that your kind served as bankers in certain mixed settlements, but I had never visited one myself. Your presence caught me off-guard. I apologize for trying to harm you."

"While I'd be considerably less forgiving if you'd actually succeeded in attacking me, seeing as how Lady Potter managed to prevent that? Apology accepted." Harry turned sideways as the goblin spoke, wanting to keep half an eye on the still unnamed goat girl even as he gave Glassjaw his attention. Now that the threat was neutralized, the goblin seemed more curious about the new arrival than anything else. "When you speak of 'my kind' and 'mixed settlements'… where, pray tell, do you think you are right now?"

Frowning, the goat girl looked around uncertainly, thoroughly inspecting her surroundings before attempting to answer that question. "Michelle told me that Harry was a mage and that his foe was a particularly powerful and tenacious lich. Is this not Dalaran, then? The city of mages, located on the shores of Lordamere Lake at the foot of the Alterac Mountains?"

Harry's brow furrowed as she named off places; while his knowledge of geography was a bit dodgy between his poor efforts in primary school and the wizarding world's disinterest in anything outside British borders, he was pretty sure that he'd know if there was a giant magical city somewhere on Earth. "…you're currently in Diagon Alley, a magical enclave in London." That just earned him a confused look. "London, England? Capital of the United Kingdom?"

"Did the Eastern Kingdoms rename themselves? I spend most of my time on Kalimdor, I'm afraid."

The what?

"So to summarize, our new wife is from an entirely different world and evidently goblins are not her friends there so she tried to smash Glassjaw. Now that she's aware that she's somewhere new where goblins are in fact friends, she'll refrain from trying to smash stuff based on her world's politics… right?" Janet waited for the goat girl to nod in acquiescence before smiling brightly, guiding her new 'sister-at-arms' over to her chair and pushing her down into it before perching on the girl's lap. "By the way, do you have a name? Because otherwise, this is going to get kinda weird and awkward. I mean, you're now Lady Rashleigh so if you don't have a name, you do now. Definitely not Rash because eww, but I suppose I could call you Leigh..?"

That earned Janet the first real smile so far from their new wife, which was actually a very comforting moment for Harry because he'd been starting to wonder what kind of teeth she might have been hiding in her mouth. Very normal, very human teeth it turned out. "Dianessa. Previously just Dianessa, now Dianessa Rashleigh."

"Oh my God, that's so pretty! I love it!" Janet let out a squeal and wrapped her arms around Dianessa's shoulders, giving the taller girl a quick squeeze before looking back up at Harry. "Sorry, I was starting to feel bad because I kept calling her 'girl' or 'goat girl' in my head. It felt rude. Speaking of rude, why are you still standing there? I'm sure Glassjaw has other appointments on his calendar today and would like us to get out of his office as soon as possible."

Yes. He was the rude one in this situation. Not the girl who'd tried to smash a goblin with a giant hammer, or the girl who had destroyed the outfit that he'd carefully transfigured to her exact specifications for her on the train. Him. Harry shook his head as he moved to retake his seat, rolling his eyes at the smirk on Glassjaw's face. He was starting to understand why the goblin had asserted that Harry was the braver man… although personally Harry was of the opinion that it wasn't bravery so much as stupidity in his case. "Janet's not wrong. About your time being valuable, that is, not about me being rude. Do we have anything left to cover today?"

Glassjaw raised one hand and wobbled it from side to side before gesturing to the pair of black boxes sitting off to one side of his desk. "I think I've received enough guidance from Lady Potter already that we can wrap this meeting up so I can begin working to execute her wishes. Unless you'd like to reconsider your decision to not take up the Black and Cavendish rings today, that is."

Opening his mouth to decline, Harry froze as something occurred to him. There was no way that he would be blending in now that Dianessa was with him. Anywhere. Ever. Not in the wizarding world and most certainly not in the muggle world. Hell, until he learned some good glamour charms, the muggle world was going to be pretty much off-limits to his new family. Which meant they were going to be associating solely with magicals for the foreseeable future, and while they knew about non-human sentient races… well, Hagrid's treatment was proof that knowing about them didn't mean that they accepted them. Why not get all the gossip, whispering, and stares over with all at once instead of dragging it out? And given that he wanted to go after the Peverell ring as soon as feasible, would having more backup really be a bad thing?

Granted, it wasn't all positives. It would increase the number of wives that he had to get to know simultaneously from two to four… but on the other hand, would it really be fair to the remaining three to unnecessarily delay things? As soon as they left Gringotts today, he and Janet and Dianessa would start bonding, start learning to be a family, start building a life together… and then they'd ask a series of outsiders to try and find their way into an increasingly tightly-knit group. How fair was that? On top of all that, if he was honest with himself… given Dianessa's assertion that they'd all be blue-skinned, he was morbidly curious about what his remaining wives would look like. And so despite his better judgement, Harry shook his head. "Actually, if you have those rings handy? Might as well just get it all over with at once. Like ripping off a band-aid."

"…while I'm very much looking forward to being able to say that I've met five Nexus-touched individuals, I'd also like to live long enough to be able to brag about it. Lady Potter, if you wouldn't mind, I'd prefer a bit of proactive protection before we try this again instead of reactive protection." Glassjaw waited for Janet to nod and transfer herself to the edge of the desk before grabbing the two incongruous ring boxes, so plain and unassuming-looking despite their contents. Leaning forward, he pushed them across the desk toward Harry, leaving them next to Janet's catsuit-clad hip. "I repeat, Lord Potter: you are a far braver man than I. For more reasons than I originally said as much."

Harry offered a wry smile in response to that, leaning in and opening first one box and then the other. The Black ring went onto his index finger, followed shortly thereafter by the Cavendish ring on his pinky, each quickly resizing itself to fit the finger that it now called home. Trying to call both new wives at once was probably the height of stupidity - knowing his luck, they'd be archenemies from the same world who had ended up in the Nexus because they killed each other but both died in the attempt or some such nonsense - but literally nobody had ever accused him of being a smart man. "Here goes nothing…"

* * *

Michelle's eyes widened as she realized that Harry was doing the absolute last thing that she would have expected after meeting Dianessa. "But I still have five candidates and only three… oh, fuck it. I was pretty sure that I was gonna pick at least those two. Let's do this!"

Granted she was only in favor of one of the women because of the whole 'race of strippers' thing and Harry really needing to loosen up a bit… but a pick was a pick, right?

* * *

The pull on his magic as Harry focused on the idea of two more mistress rings and the wives to wear them was almost painful, and he let out a loud gasp that almost drowned out the twin pops as the girls manifested. He slumped back in his seat as he tried to catch his breath, looking first to one side and then the other… but it again fell to Janet to cover the initial reaction to the new arrivals. "The fuck is this? The fuck is that?" Her head turned back and forth several times before settling on the figure to Harry's left. "The fuck are you?"

"…the fuck am I?" That came from the other newly arrived wife, tinged with a distinct Russian accent. She definitely lived up to Michelle's supposed desire to stick him with blue-skinned, decidedly non-human wives: in addition to the obviously inhuman skin tone, her irises were a yellowish-orange color and glowed faintly. Her hair was as black as his own, she had a strange black design either painted or tattooed on her face, and… well, she could have been hiding some other unusual features under the grey bodysuit that her sleek, white and black armor sat atop, but if she was? Given that her outfit was almost as tight as Janet's catsuit, she couldn't be hiding much. "I think both 'where' and possibly 'when' are appropriate first words for that question. This architecture… it's not just pre-Collapse, it's pre-Golden Age."

If his present day was before someone else's 'Golden Age', that made her… what, a time traveller? Then again, Harry mused, it could have been worse: at least she seemed to vaguely recognize where she was, unlike Dianessa. Idly, he found himself wondering if it had anything to do with how human she looked; was that what all the humans looked like on her Earth whenever she'd come from? Or was she - like Janet - from an Earth that had made contact with aliens and she was just a very human-looking alien who lived there, hence her familiarity with it? That made a bit more sense to Harry but given the wide variety of skin tones already present on Earth, the idea of blue-colored humans evolving at some point in the future wasn't entirely outrageous.

The other new arrival seemed calm and confident as she surveyed the room, which made Harry assume that she was likewise familiar with Earth. That definitely made her a resident of an Earth familiar with aliens, because she was about as human as Dianessa. Her skin was a richer shade of blue than the Russian girl, speckled lightly with white freckles along her shoulders, breasts, and stretching from one cheek across her nose to the other. Her brown leather pants and one-shouldered crop top were both tight enough to make him very sure that she didn't have a tail, spikes, or any other inhuman features… other than her blue skin and the twin tail-like things growing out of her head. That was right up there with Dianessa's overall… Dianessa-ness in the 'what the hell, Michelle?' category. Then the girl opened her mouth and blew his first assumption out of the water. "Interesting. This building reminds me of some of the ruins from before the Hundred-Year Darkness that I visited during my apprenticeship. Far, far more primitive than I'm accustomed to, as Michelle warned me, but I'll adapt." Huh. The blue alien wife with tails growing out of her head was French. That was… actually stranger than the headtails, Harry decided, given that she was an alien and all. "As for your question, Janet… Twi'lek. I assume that you were asking 'what' the fuck I am. If it was who? Aayla Secura, now Aayla Cavendish."

The Russian pulled her attention away from her surroundings at that, doing a double-take as she gave Aayla a thorough inspection before shrugging and waving to first Janet, then Dianessa, and then finally Harry. "Sorcha Rife, Awoken of the Reef. Or I was. Suppose I'm Sorcha Black now. Michelle said something about that being appropriate because of monograms?"

"…my godfather's name was Sirius. Sirius Black. I inherited the House of Black when he died a little over a week ago, and the House of Cavendish for that matter. Spin for me?" Sorcha blinked owlishly several times before raising her arms over her head and spinning in a slow circle; Harry nodded approvingly at the sight of a well-rounded arse straining against her tight grey pants before holding up a hand to stop her from making a second rotation. "Yeah I'm pretty sure that Sirius would approve of you. He had a hearty appreciation for women with large arses and was very vocal about it. Something about how it helped women know that he wasn't a liar?"

Janet let out a peel of laughter at that, clapping her hands before using both hands as she gestured to Sorcha energetically. "He… liked… big… butts and he could not lie!" That earned her nothing but blank stares, which only made her laugh harder. "Your godfather had great taste in music. I love Sir Mix-a-Lot. And the fact that even Harry has no idea what I'm talking about but Sirius obviously did means that I get to introduce all of you to modern pop culture. This is going to be awesome!"

That made Harry roll his eyes, and then he tensed up as an unwanted voice manifested itself once more. _'So, what do you think? I think we can both agree that my taste in women… blue your mind.'_ Michelle let out a cackle at her terrible joke before abruptly sobering, going from jovial to cold in the blink of an eye. _'Piece of advice? Don't fuck with people who have power over reality and your destiny because it will come back to bite you on the ass. Kinda like Janet is thinking of doing to Sorcha right now. Damn, she is a pervert. You are gonna have a lot of fun with her. A lot.'_

_'Yes, because I definitely strike you as the sort of person who looks for that in a girl.'_

Harry sank back into his seat, doing his best to block out the idle chatter as Janet threw herself back onto Dianessa's lap, serving as an intermediary as she pulled both Sorcha and Dianessa into a conversation. _'Oh, I know you're a bit of a prude. Why do you think I'm stacking your deck like this? Also, since she's expecting you to know this because almost everyone in her galaxy does… most female Twi'lek are trained to be strippers at the very least and Aayla's no exception. If you ever work up the courage to ask for one, she can give you one hell of a lap dance. Although if I were you, I'd ask her to train Sorcha; that girl is twenty pounds of ass in a ten pound sack. If someone can teach her how to use what her Ghost gave back to her…'_

Shaking his head, Harry glanced over at Aayla before blushing faintly as he pictured her doing some of the things that he'd seen in one of Seamus's copies of _Playwizard_. While the fact that she was his wife meant that if anyone could see her like that, it would be him… _'Merlin. You're terrible. How am I supposed to look these girls in the eye with you whispering stuff like this in my head?'_

_'Harry, I haven't gotten laid since before your kind created quidditch and thanks to how busy you and a few other notable Harrys keep me? That's probably not going to change anytime soon. So forgive me for wanting to live vicariously through my projects.'_ As Harry tried to absorb that - if that was true, exactly how old was his Reaper? - Michelle's voice took on a more contemplative tone. _'You know, your fifth wife is going to be from a species with a strong tradition of stripping too. What if… what if you get Aayla and Liara to team up and teach Sorcha everything they know? I bet her dancing skills would be… out of this world.'_

_'That is a terrible pun and you should be ashamed of yourself.'_ But seeing as how Michelle seemed intent on having this conversation, whether or not he wanted to? Harry filed away what he presumed to be the name of his remaining wife-to-be before shooting a quick glance over at Dianessa, chancing a longer look when he realized that she was engrossed in the conversation she was having with Janet and Sorcha. _'What's Dianessa in all of this, chopped liver? I mean, it's kinda hard to see with all that armor in the way, but she looks pretty curvy…'_

That earned him the mental equivalent of a raised eyebrow. _'I mean, if that's your thing? Get Aayla and Liara to train her up and then knock yourself out. Just out of curiosity, you do realize that she weighs half again as much as you even without the armor, right?'_

_'Pretty sure the same can be said for Molly and Arthur, and they make things work.'_

_'Oh! Oh! There's a mental image I really didn't need. Well fuck you very much and on that note, I'm going to go puke in my dustbin while you get this show on the road.'_ That was followed by the sound of a door slamming loudly, and Harry let out a soft sigh of relief. So. He now knew how to deal with Michelle, and had gleaned a bit of information about his last remaining wife in the process. Not bad for a few minutes work if he did say so himself. Harry felt a little bad about comparing his best friend's mum to a giant purple goat girl… but he'd find a way to live with himself.

Michelle was right about one thing, though: there was nothing else that could be accomplished today at Gringotts, and so it was time for him to gather up his increasingly motley crew and go. Returning his attention to the outside world, Harry's eyes widened as he found himself with Aayla on his lap, her right headtail far too close to his face. Somehow sensing the change, she glanced down and offered him a faint smile. "Welcome back. I didn't want to disturb you by asking, but I felt awkward looming over Janet while we talked and so-"

Raising his hand, Harry waited for her to go quiet before resting his hand awkwardly on her thigh. "It's fine. Sorry I spaced out; I was having a little talk with Michelle." That earned him the attention of all of the girls - and Glassjaw as well - but Harry shook his head. "Nothing pressing, or even interesting. She just wanted to discuss a bit of… household business." If one could call debating which of his new wives could give the best lap dance such, that was. Wait. Household. He wasn't going back to Number Four and the Order of the Phoenix would remain at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for some time to come if this pass through the timeline was anything like his previous one. Shit. "Glassjaw, speaking of households… I'm the head of four houses. Please tell me that I actually own some houses?"

"Several. Given your lifestyle choices, though, I can think of only one house that would suit you and your new family without needing extensive remodeling or expansion." Glassjaw dug through some of the folders on his desk before finding the one he was looking for, flipping it open and rifling through the contents. Finding what he was looking for, he tilted the folder forward and dumped a handful of yellowing photographs onto his desk. Aayla held out her hand, and the photographs floated up to arrange themselves in front of her and Harry, allowing him to see them more easily. It was a massive house but also a curious one: while stone featured heavily like in most wizarding homes, there were also some very modern features like extensive use of picture windows. Somehow, it seemed both ancient and modern at the same time… and Harry loved it. "Might I suggest you consider picking Cheipystri as your family seat?"


End file.
